


Soju Induced Trip

by tyndaridai



Category: Korean Drama, 상속자들 | The Heirs
Genre: F/M, Ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyndaridai/pseuds/tyndaridai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stop thinking so loudly," she orders, voice raspy from sleep. </p><p>(Day 6 of the 12 Days of Youngra)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soju Induced Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Please check [this masterpost](http://tyndaridaes.tumblr.com/post/105382274895/masterpost) for more information about the small ficathon.

When he wakes up in the morning he's in Rachel's bed.   
  
His mouth is dry and his head is pounding, but those are fleeting observations next to the full fledged panic that strikes hot at the sight of Rachel's thick brown hair fanned out against the pillow by his head.  
  
He moves a strand from his lips carefully, heart hammering and brow puckered. They were sharing a pillow. What the  _fuck_ happened last night?   
  
She's facing away from him, curled up on her side and clutching their shared pillow tightly. A bare shoulder peeks out from beneath the covers and Young Do swallows hard. Had...  
  
No.  
  
Swimming through his disorientation, Young Do realizes that he is still fully clothed (dinner jacket and all) and he's laying almost diagonally across the bed, on top of the covers, like he'd just collapsed there.   
  
"Shit," he mutters, pressing the heel of his palm to his eye as he struggles to make sense of last night's events. He had gone out for drinks with the Vice President after a particularly heated Board meeting that had tested the limits of Young Do's patience and maturity.  His blood had been like fire, stomach like lead, and the conciliatory alcohol the Vice President had forced on him had tasted like ash in his mouth. So, he'd had more and more of the soju until he wasn't able to taste or feel anything at all.  
  
He doesn't remember why he'd stumbled to Rachel's home instead of his own, though he can put the pieces together well enough. There's a flash of her face in his memory, of her furious expression before it had slid off of her face completely. He remembers her fingers on his wrist when he'd slumped against door-frame, bereft, but he doesn't remember anything after that.   
  
As expected, Rachel shifts slightly to reveal the strap of her nightgown through her curtain of hair. They hadn't done anything last night, at least, nothing with profound ramifications. It's a reassuring thought, but Young Do stares passively at that bare skin and heaves a long breath. It didn't ultimately mean much though, because until Rachel woke up, he couldn't be sure he hadn't done or said something unforgivable. In his experience, there was always something.   
  
He lies there for a long moment, staring at the back of her head in a stupour of self-loathing and exhausted acceptance, limbs almost too heavy to move. It was curious that Rachel had clearly  _allowed_  him to stay there, strewn across her bed while she slept peacefully beside him.  He'd sought her out in his state of disquiet and it wasn't difficult to figure out why.   
  
She was his best friend in ways that Myung Soo could not qualify and he found himself seeking her out more often these days (both consciously and unconsciously it seemed).  
  
Their combative relationship had softened into something else entirely. There was a familiarity in each other's insecurities, a recognition of things once fragile and broken that were made stronger when put next to each other. She gave as good as he did, had even less of a tolerance for weakness and insipid thinking, and schemed with far more finesse than he did. Together, there was no lacking, they filled the spaces of each other's shortcomings and turned them into advantages.  It was obvious wasn't it? He was looking for a partner ( _home)_  and he found it in Rachel.   
  
He rubs at his eye and sighs. Fuck.  
  
So consumed by this potentially dangerous line of thinking, Young Do doesn't realize Rachel is awake until she reaches back and presses a hand to his stomach. He starts, suddenly alert. She's unaware of his reaction, having thrown her hand back blindly, but she is clearly unconcerned about where she's touching him.  
  
"Stop thinking so loudly," she orders, bossy even in sleep.   
  
He watches that searching hand finally find his and he holds his breath when she grasps onto his fingers.   
  
"I lost an hour of sleep because of you," she mumbles, tugging his hand lazily. He's barely listening to her, still in a state of confusion, lingering drunkenness, and exhaustion. He has no idea what she's trying to do but he let's her tug on his hand again until she's bringing it up and over her waist.  
  
She could have shot him and he wouldn't have been more surprised.  
  
"Rachel," he hears himself say and can only watch as she folds his arm up along her chest, forcing him to straighten and press closer to her. She sighs, utterly unconcerned. Was  _she_  drunk?  
  
"I was more than hospitable. I gave you the bed instead of the floor," only Rachel would use words like 'hospitable' moments after waking up. "And then you passed out. Sideways. On my bed." There's a deep, long-suffering sigh, and Young Do can't hide the brief smile at the sound. "I even tried to take off your clothes, Young Do. What the  _hell_  have you been eating?"  
  
Her comment is innocent enough and he chuckles at the image of her struggling with his jacket, perched on his hips for better leverage as she swears incessantly under her breath with the struggle. He sees why he woke up clothed, nearly diagonal across the entire bed. She hadn't had the strength to move him after he'd selfishly passed out on her.   
  
"Kimbap and the souls of innocents," he finally parries back, wariness and disorientation gone with the ease of her gruff morning banter. He wasn't expecting this reaction, especially not eager hands and her insistence for physical contact. He'd shifted only minutely, careful not to fully press his legs and pelvis against her. His hand was still trapped against her chest though, and Young Do flexes his fingers experimentally, amazed when she shifts and tugs him closer to her.   
  
She snorts at his comment and brushes some of her hair from her neck. "You won't need breakfast then," she says airily and he can hear the sleep begin to reclaim her. He stays still, afraid to move, unsure if he is even able to.   
  
"Your thoughts are too loud," she drowsily snaps and Young Do chuckles quietly in disbelief. This was too much, he thinks anyways. He's halfway convinced he's still drunk, this entire situation a soju induced trip he would be paying for when Rachel came to her senses.   
  
"Young Do," she says more seriously, softly, grip gentle when she squeezes his hand "We'll talk about it."  
  
He stares at the back of her head, close enough that her hair still brushes the side of his face. She has his hand against her chest and his arm wound around her waist. There's a surge of mild, reluctant affection that Young Do has to tuck away lest it overcome him.   
  
"Go back to sleep Rachel."


End file.
